The 

Old Guard 



By Ex-Sergeant Venn, C. M. S. C. 
Ottawa, Canada 



A veteran's plea for undying recognition of the services of 
veterans of past wars, with messages of great importance to 
American subjects. 



CALVERT-CALHOUN TJ^ggSihi PRINTING COMPANY 
SEAHLE 



/ 






Copyrighted by Albert Edward Venn 
1917 



/ 

)CIA476744 

OCT 25 191/ 



CHAPTER I 
THE OLD GUARD 

DIGHT casts her gloom over trench, riven hill and 
plains of shot-spattered brush and bracken, partly 
or wholly concealing the broken and mutilated things 
that the day previous were men in the full enjoyment 
of health and strength, retreating, advancing, charging 
and hurrahing, with the joy of battle in their souls, but 
are now things dead. Twisted and distorted by the 
pangs of suffering preceding death some features are be- 
yond recognition, though others are as calm and mobile 
as those of sleeping infants. A red glare occasionally 
lightens the sky, followed by a stunning report, as a 
monster shell explodes ; and following is heard the dead- 
ly rattling of machine guns, hurling forth their messen- 
gers of death in the direction of their subtle and strategic 
foes, close hidden behind barriers of earth, concrete 
and timber, awaiting the glint of dawn to charge like 
wolves upon their prey. 

The bright rays of a morning sun bestow a benedic- 
tion upon that great field of strife somewhere in France, 
their warmth relax stiffened and watching forms, weary, 
dishevelled, and tortured by vermin and battered nerves. 
Officers and non-coms give orders in a low tone of voice 
for the making of a speedy breakfast, to be followed by 
a careful examination of arms, gas helmets and accoutre- 
ments. They predict a great day, the last day for many, 

—3— 



alas, but cheerily they eat, jokingly remark upon each 
other's grimy, filthy appearance, and manfully quench 
the doubt of victory or the thought of perhaps never 
more witnessing the rising of the sun. With brave hope 
inspired by a sense of duty and of their calling they 
silently and obediently await the further coming of great 
events. 

A distant droning from a great elevation betokens 
the rapid approach of a winged monster strikingly simi- 
lar to a great hawk in shape and general appearance. 
It is an enemy Taube aeroplane driven by an alert, keen- 
eyed scout, eager to discover a masked battery of ar- 
tillery or a line of defenses favorable for the launching 
of an attack by the army of gray green clad warriors 
stealthily moving forward under cover of woods and hilly 
ground, their artillerymen at the signal of black powder 
thrown from the Taube opening fire from their huge 
howitzers to throw their two hundred pound shells with 
devastating effect at the object aimed at. The action be- 
comes general, the long sinuous lines of trench occupied 

by the allied forces under the command of General 

belching forth fire and smoke and proj ecting their deadly 
missiles with fearful effect into the solid blocks of infan- 
try driven like sheep to the slaughter by their Teuton 
masters. 

Groans and shrieks swell the voice of the tumult, 
blood in small rivulets and streams saturate the earth a 
short while before devoted to peaceful culture, and men, 
made in the image of their God and Creator, lie pros- 
trate in all directions painfully breathing out their souls 
into His final care and keeping. Boys of tender age 
with men, veterans of past wars with tunics decorated 

—4— 



with ribbons, lie side by side in trench and upon open 
ground, still clutching with deathly tenacity rifle and 
revolver. A ragged strip of colored material, a portion 
of a miniature "Stars and Stripes" hangs loosely from a 
breast pocket of one youthful khaki-clad warrior. His 
long, neglected, fair hair is dabbled with crimson as he 
lies spread eagle wise across the legs of a bearded foe 
whom he has done to death before receiving the shot that 
robbed him of his own life. Old and young, strong and 
weak, sorely wounded and dead strew that dreadful 
battle ground, each as a sacrifice to the country of his 
allegiance, his birth and upbringing. Great mines are 
exploded, filling for a great space the atmosphere with 
flying debris, scraps of human and animal flesh, to fall 
into the crater thus formed, and there to remain for all 
time until the end of all things earthly. In the rear of 
this scene of conflict men with stretchers hasten to fill 
the motor ambulances, wagons and carts with suffering 
forms to be conveyed with all possible speed to field hos- 
pitals, friend and foe alike to be ministered unto there by 
gentle, devoted nurses with pitying eyes and gentle 
hands, noble women and girls working swiftly, skillfully 
and patiently under the directions of surgeons with cool 
brains and the intrepid use of glittering instruments, 
anon which they throw clatteringly upon trays or into 
basins for immediate sterilization. For their immediate 
repeated uses are urgently required for the pressing 
numbers of wounded awaiting their turn to be operated 
upon. In all stages of suffering these lie around upon 
pallets of straw, with brave hearts stifling as best they 
can the inclination to cry aloud or to shriek with the pain 
they bear. Faces covered with blood, with sightless 

—5— 



orbs, limbs rent from their sockets or mashed beyond 
salvation, bodies scarred and lacerated by shot and shell, 
these tributes to the savagery and barbaric methods of 
modern German warfare are to be witnessed in any field 
hospital at the front in France at the present time. 

A man or woman of mature understanding and pos- 
sessing the higher principles of thought and feeling, 
cannot feel but shame at the reflection of their human 
constitutions living and moving upon the same plane of 
existence as that of the instigator of this terrible out- 
rage, perpetrated upon the face of the Earth in these far 
advanced days, by such a matchless wicked schemer seek- 
ing to acquire the right to rule the world. To rule it by 
the power of militarism aided and governed by kultur — 
frightfulness. Seeking earnestly to discover the direct 
methods to conduct warfare to appall even Hell by their 
bloody, horrible nature. 

In his dark, restless, forbidding spirit is apparently 
an inexhaustible supply of the fundamental characteris- 
tics of an evil abode from whence come the pangs and 
works of damnable Sin. 

Were there but an ounce, so to speak, of chivalry 
in his make-up as a man, a King, a loyal thought for the 
Almighty he has so daringly outraged, or the slightest 
portion of regard for nobility and honor, he might be 
entitled to hope for speedy reconciliation between him- 
self, his country and the powers that are now so deter- 
mined to overthrow him. But the fiat of our Allies is 
that, he and all his kind shall be fully and overwhelm- 
ingly dogged into submission, then made to pay to the 
full a severe penalty for their crimes. Wars, certainly, 
have ever played a leading part in the world's history, 

—6— 



being indeed very often necessary for the quenching of 
savage nations whereby their lands might be acquired 
to help the progress of civilization. But this present 
war is quite unnecessary, its instigator's motives for mak- 
ing it being purely revengeful and jealous. Therefore he 
must be defeated and dishonored though each of his 
enemies be brought to subsist on bread alone. Though 
our treasuries be depleted and we walk in rags we must 
continue in the work now well commenced to subjugate 
him once and for all time, to guarantee a lasting grace 
to the Earth, from the works of such intolerable mili- 
tarism as he has exercised to fill even his own land with 
the throes of anguish and despair. Grave indeed is the 
condition of the land still governed by such a haughty 
and tempestuous ruler, bringing down upon innocent 
heads the curses of many nations, even the unborn chil- 
dren of his realm feeling through their bearers the effects 
of his disastrous rage and malignant policies. Not a 
hamlet, village, city or town of his land is void of weep- 
ing, wailing mothers, wives, sweethearts and old fathers, 
sorrowing for their dead. The dread of the man's pres- 
ence causes bowels to shrink, and blood to grow chill. 
At the mention of his name hearts beat painfully within 
tender breasts, and lips grow white and dry as from a 
dreadful drought. Beware you that speak favorably 
of such being, or harbor hopes and wishes for his suc- 
cess. For however well hidden your thoughts events re- 
veal them to your confusion and consternation. 

Cheer the lads as they cluster at the doors of re- 
cruiting stations anxiously seeking admittance to enlist to 

—7— 



fight such a foe. String "Old Glory" on high with the 
"Union Jack" and let their folds blend to the sound of 
trumpet and drum. "Veterans, attention," salute France 
and her Allies. 



CHAPTER II 
"LEST WE FORGET" 

CHE old dogs of war with dimming eyes scan the 
perspective of the chase with mingled emotions 
from out the different circumstances of life, which now 
for them, so far as chasing and running down their 
quarries as formerly is of a quiet, hum-drum or passive 
variety, subject to the laws of time, of decay, and failing 
energy. 

The swift, the strong, of former years, occupied by 
endeavor to wreath with immortal renown the institutions 
of their fathers by the performance of gallant deeds, 
wrought under stress of difficulty, in the flooded field 
and deadly trench, beneath the harsh suns of tropical, 
fever-haunted climes, or in the frigid, frightful atmos- 
phere of northern zones, are now placed aside for a 
younger, stronger generation to keep at bay from their 
pastures of motherland, the blood-thirsty droves of 
wolves with blood-glutted jowls, seeking from out of 
strange lands to rend and devour the weak and strong 
alike. 

The trumpet that gathered them for the chase reposes 
in its bracket, the arms of their masters have grown rusty 

—8— 



and their accoutrements moulden. The photograph above 
the fireplace of that gallant looking boy in the bravely 
donned uniform taken a short while before the day of 
terrible Gettysburg, bears no resemblance to its origin, 
the feeble, white-haired grand-dad querulously chiding a 
laughing, romping boy for hammering his gouty knees, 
and making occasional dives to clutch his long, patriar- 
chal beard so lovingly tended each morning by his hand- 
some grand-daughter. The cottage in which he sits is 
prettily situated upon the edge of a small plantation 
revealing the freshness and tender green of springtime. 
The bright sun kisses the petals of opening flowers, the 
kine in rich pastures indulge in gentle lowing as a re- 
minder of milking time. Nature, in all her loveliness 
inspires the mind with grateful thoughts of her Creator's 
love and care for his human children. 

Grand-dad's favorite arm chair is considerately 
placed by a friendly neighbor on the small veranda 
facing the highway. There he sits comfortably clad, 
and happy in the receipt of a generous pension paid him 
by a grateful country. Had he no friends or relatives 
with whom to reside, his residence could become a hos- 
pitable and comfortable institution, but he is happier 
and more content in his more private state, in the cottage 
with those who love and care for him. 

Thus, week in, week out, he calmly awaits the com- 
ing of life's end, when he shall be laid to rest in the 
patch of purchased ground in the village cemetery, by 
surviving comrades with all the pomp and ceremony at 
their command. A nation's tributes of respect and ma- 
terial support for such as he are well deserved. Tens of 
thousands of emancipated sufferers from the yoke of 

—9— 



slavery have given birth to a generation of their color, 
whom for their present prosperous and much enlightened 
state are indebted, deeply indebted, to the rank and file 
of the armies of the Union, unfortunately opposed though 
these were to armies of their own color and race. We, 
in our travels in the South especially have viewed with 
astonishment and great interest the marks of industrial 
and educational progress made by the colored people. 
In place of squat, dilapidated shanties, well appointed, 
comfortable dwelling houses now shelter mere laborers. 
Larger and more pretentious dwellings are the properties 
of land-owners, farmers, professors of theology, mathe- 
matics, arts, the sciences, and superintendents of labor. 
The latter in many of the towns and cities we visited 
being now employers of white men, whose forebears con- 
tributed in forging the manacles and branding irons of a 
slave cursed epoch, now under the blood shed by its gal- 
lant veteran emancipators. On occasions we have travel- 
led by thousands of acres of territory showing the green, 
luxurious foliage of cotton, corn and roots owned ex- 
clusively by colored folk. In cities we have visited their 
great seminaries of learning, up-to-date schoolhouses, 
colleges, theatres and universities, and wondered. We have 
visited churches and other places of worship, to wonder 
more, and be deeply impressed by the learning, the logic, 
depth of thought and enthusiastic piety of their pulpit 
orators, reminding us miserably of the want of such serv- 
ants of the doctrine of the Cross, in very many of our 
"white" churches and chapels wherein the frigidity of re- 
ligious feeling reminds one of the cold clamminess of a 
tomb. In such a comparatively isolated spot as the small 
town of Beaufort, N. C, we once visited at a convention of 
—10— 



colored ministers a small, wooden structure denominated 
a church, in view of witnessing part of the proceedings. 
The seat assigned us by a verger wearing large specta- 
cles, was in a small gallery for "white folks" only, and 
from there we listened to the most profoundly lucid and 
powerful sermon of our life, delivered by a brawny negro 
with hardly a trace of native accent. The effect of his 
preaching upon the congregation, including ourselves, 
was electrical. Men and women rose from their seats, 
shouted and wept, through a state of transportation en- 
gendered by pure and undeniable piety. 

We were not pious, neither exact believers in the 
divinity of Jesus Christ, though tolerant, and markedly 
impressed by the preacher's attitude and words. 

Moral suasion, legislation, civil agitation or such 
eloquent teachers of the curse of slavery as Harriet 
Beecher Stowe, impute what cause you will to the defi- 
nite steps taken by Abraham Lincoln to quench slavery 
in the South, still to effect that purpose nought could 
have been accomplished without force of arms. War, 
with its concomitants of suffering, self-denial and blood- 
shedding was necessary to release the neck of the slave 
from the yoke of his Confederate masters. Then today, 
his descendants with the manifold blessings of their 
risen state, should not forget by whose heroic work and 
exemplary military achievements those same blessings 
became theirs. 

The present turmoil of our existence creating multi- 
tudinous causes for mental diversion, the strivings of 
our nations to bring victory to their flags wherever their 
enemies are operating, or whatever be the nature of the 
movements to render the past obscure, its veterans must 
—11— 



still occupy a predominating position in the memories 
of their countrymen. The beneficiaries of their vic- 
torious accomplishments may not be allowed to forget 
that their works of patriotism urged into action by calls 
from Heaven largely and eminently contributed towards 
making possible the safety of America's future — the 
present — in which she stands to rise or fall, in her war 
with the Central Powers of Europe. 

That war has not reached its climax. It may yet 
be necessary for this continent to call to arms her able 
veterans to safeguard the keeping of its important gate- 
ways against the encroachments of a foreign foe. Once, 
twice, or thrice again as in action at San Juan, Guasimas, 
Santiago and in the Philippines, the gallant and true 
Spanish-American war veterans may again storm the 
breach or charge the hell of a bullet-swept plain, in 
columns, brigades and divisions, repeating the heroic 
operations that brought freedom to Cuba, quenched the 
spirit of Spanish inquisitorial hate, and won for the 
Philippines the dawn of civilization. In these trials they 
were found true, in their repose they offer a menacing 
front to Anarchism and the communisms of partisan well- 
wishers of a Boche confederation of savage slayers of 
women and children. 

This is not meant for a spiteful utterance. The 
thin excuses of Germany for invading Belgium and then 
France, and her methods of reprisals upon both coun- 
tries for their prompt opposition to her piratical, lawless 
schemes, caused many of their women, old and young, 
with children to be tortured, assassinated and raped by 
her soldiery. By resorting to a public library one may 
be loaned, as we were in the public library of Ottawa, 
—13— 



Canada, in the year 1915, a pamphlet entitled, "Bel- 
gium's Neutrality," issued, but we believe not for whole- 
sale public distribution, by the Government of P'rance. 

In it is set forth many testimonies, fully corrobo- 
rated by witnesses on oath before Belgian and French 
judges and other administrators of law, as to horrible 
crimes committed upon the persons of many of their 
women and young girls in particular, by German soldiers 
and officers. Each testimony bears the fac-simile of an 
authentic signature, made in a clear, firm style. So 
revolting were some details that at first we imputed to 
them exaggeration, in fact, prevarication. But careful 
inquiry has elicited us proof of their truth. 

It still remains for the majority of America's citi- 
zens to learn how well they are justified in forming 
stringent measures for the crushing of Germany's guilty 
powers. 

This is a task set for all Americans without a single 
exception to accomplish willingly, devotedly and with 
knowledge. Not a square inch of American territory 
above or below its surface may be called neutral for 
man, woman, boy or girl to occupy to evade service in 
the present cause of their country. Neutrality, at this 
present time, of any form, means Treason. To every 
American citizen of mature growth is assigned a task 
of some description towards damning the aims and pur- 
poses of their enemy. 

All classes of veterans realize this fact, and whether 
or not able to take up arms for a renewal of activities in 
the cause of war, by speech, bearing and practical works 
have set examples for combatants and non-combatants 
to copy. In spheres of labor, at home, or at camp meet- 
—13— 



ings, Spanish-American war veterans aim to charge 
hearts with the same noble and sacrificial aspirations as 
caused them to enlist instantly at the call of their 
country. And we are all comrades. Veterans, com- 
batants and non-combatants of Canada, the British Isles, 
and of the States of America, are in honor bound com- 
pelled to operate individually and collectively in every 
possible way to crush the enemy within and without 
their gates. A great international association of vete- 
rans is called for. This is the time for its inception in 
hospitable America, whose doors are being besieged by 
supplicants related to our allied countries, for material 
aid in their cause against a common enemy. 

We are supplicating even now with the future un- 
radiated by even a gleam from Heaven for our guid- 
ance, for the immediate construction of an international 
veterans' committee to decide upon ways and means to 
deal internationally with the affairs of veterans of the 
past and future. We are not inclined to believe that 
either the British or American government of the future 
can devise a satisfactory solution to the difficult problem 
as to what may satisfactorily be done by their surviving 
soldiers of the present war towards affording them means 
of recompense by labor or pension grants, to leave 
veterans of past wars satisfied; or disinclined to strive for 
equal recognition. To give more or less to one than to the 
other is to cause dissention and other disagreeable forms 
of disturbance to retard preparations for confronting 
and overcoming the many civil, religious, labor and other 
perils as will surely be in attendance upon each govern- 
ment's methods of readjustment for future national 
progress. In any case, we veterans of the past, must 
—14— 



adopt the term "preparedness" as the keynote to all our 
future plans and purposes. 

We say or do nothing at this present time to lend 
the slightest color of disloyalty to our proceedings, 
though resolute in our determination not to permit 
repetitions of the policy of neglect so ardently exercised 
in the past upon British soil to the detriment of British 
veterans. Starvation, beggary and unemployment. Such 
evils were the curse of tens of thousands of veterans in 
the British Isles before this present war. Homeless and 
penniless the aged were driven to seek the suspicious 
hospitality of asylum and workhouse in which to end 
their days, forgotten and forsaken. Afterwards, a 
pauper's grave was their last resting place; a pawnshop 
the sole inheritance of their decorations. Their medals 
won at Balaclava, and in the snowy trenches before 
Sebastapol, with other medals and crosses symbolic of 
valor and intrepid conduct in the field, were therein 
exposed for sale. The ghosts of memory are hard to 
expunge though we fight them valiantly to remain true 
to our country's flag. Yea, though beaten and despised 
we have turned and licked the garments of our master, 
once more donned his uniform to prevent his enemy 
eating him up. We have been compelled to emigrate 
to a foreign country to earn our bread, in one, subject 
to our monarch, our past military services were depre- 
ciated, our decorations smirched by an element of slack- 
ers and treasonable mal-contents. But through it all we 
have remained true to our country. 

We speak not in self-praise, rather to throw into 
bolder relief the marked attitudes of able-bodied men 
seeking to evade service by the making of paltry excuses, 
—15— 



or because of rancor against the flag they have never 
tried to serve, though beneath its folds enjoying prosper- 
ity and safety — at the expense of the man at the front. 
The first contingents of Canada's army for overseas 
work comprised not less than eighty-two per cent of 
British emigrants, many of them old soldiers of the 
South African and Egyptian compaigns who, for very 
love of motherland, forgave her share in contributing 
to the causes of their exile, by thus marching forth to 
needs die for her. Noble work, noble self-abnegated 
consistency of thought and action towards an ungrateful 
parent, whose paps, though full to bursting with rich 
sustenance, denied them suckle. Out of her vast treas- 
uries that enabled her to spend nearly forty million dol- 
lars daily in the purchase of war supplies, and the 
making of munitions for the present, she could not see 
her way clear to reward even her disabled veterans with 
even a third part of the amount of pension paid to a 
Civil or Spanish-American war veteran. 

Not to shame her do we write thus at this particular 
moment when the eyes of her enemy still seek excuses 
for his wrongdoings towards her, but to create a proper 
basis upon which to build a memorial of wrong for her 
future warning, on behalf of those that shall presently 
be returned to civil life within her, and her possessions 
overseas. 

Britain's sons will fight not the less better or perse- 
veringly because of our words, but while they fight we 
will help prepare their future against the evils of our 
past state as a veteran in the land, their land, of our 
birth. By and through public and veteran interest in 
—16— 



the United States of America we sincerely hope to suc- 
ceed in doing this. 

Our means for our attempt are small^ ridicuously so ; 
our educational advantages less. We are neither sup- 
ported financially or represented by any society or union. 
Our pen, as the reader may easily observe, lacks the 
skill of a ready writer. We live (when not on strike) by 
the patronage of a union card. We are strange to this 
hustling, bustling city, inasmuch that we feel even in its 
busiest centers as much isolated as a modern Robinson 
Crusoe. We cannot after meals as may the rich in 
palatial hotels pick our teeth with the nonchalence and 
comfort due to the fact of our snug bank account. We 
have not a past worth mentioning, but a tolerable future. 
The goal we aim to reach is hearts, sympathetically, 
lovingly beating in unison with the thoughts of its great 
life-giver. You may surmise that we are not atheistical, 
but neither are we religious to the extent of forming one 
of a sect to commercialize the name of God or disgrace 
it by pretense. 

We love a good person, but a fakir of matters re- 
ligious we dub a bigger, more dangerous varlet than the 
chief Boche. We are hoping to observe very soon joint 
action adopted by the city's police authorities for . the 
suppression of such sly traitors to our great war cause. 
Their oily, suave denunciations in the name of the 
"Lord" of its wickedness are edifying only to those who 
desire our Allies defeated. 

But such as he are not to be classed with the many 

Christians devoted to good works, including service for 

their country at home and in the zones of war. We have 

in mind the many honor rolls displayed in churches we 

—17— 



have visited lately in America and Canada, of clean, 
smart lads who have perished in the field or have been 
returned from thence wounded and mutilated. The war 
operations of the Y. M. C. A. richly deserve a nation's 
special vote of thanks for its untiring and sacrificial 
efforts to contribute to the physical and mental welfare 
of our Allied forces, very often at the hazard of the 
lives of its civilian servants. We shall rely upon such 
good people for backing in our endeavors to pre-emi- 
nently sustain the claims of veterans for more distinct 
recognition and to acquire them a safe future. 



CHAPTER III. 

"COMRADES, SALUTE YOUR DEAD." 
'HIS chapter is dedicated to a recount of our ser- 
vice in Egypt and the Soudan, at the present time 
occupied by gallant Anzacs and other allied units operat- 
ing against Germans and Turks. 

Our object in insinuating this narrative in the folds 
of our small work, is merely to enlighten the reader as 
to the legitimacy of our claims for American mediation 
on behalf of others like ourselves, bereft in the evening 
of their days of national support of any kind. Many 
racked and tortured similarly at intervals by physical 
ills, the sole reward for a terrible four years term of ser- 
vice in the then pestilence haunted land of the Pharoahs. 
We write for one and all. The points in our narrative 
deemed worthy of the reader's consideration must be 
— 1&— 



accepted as evidence of our desire to see promoted for 
all veterans a complete and lasting international fellow- 
ship, with a pension scheme to benefit such deserving 
veterans as I describe. 

In the spring of the year 1883, dreadful cholera 
broke out in the City of Cairo, and investing cabin, hut, 
palace, and barrack, slew many. At the time of its first 
outbreak our corps, the left half battalion of the Sussex 
Regiment, was stationed at Abbasyieh, formerly Old 
Cairo, in barracks situated upon the borders of the 
Libyan Desert. There beneath its barren wastes were 
buried in shallow graves haunted by wild dogs, coyotes 
of Egypt, hundreds of native victims of the dread 
disease. Just prior to its outbreak whilst maneuvering 
under the command of Gen. Sir Evelyn Wood, our corps 
charged into the very centre of a hugh pit containing 
thousands of bleached human skeletons. The crunching 
of the bones conveyed to our mind a message of Egypt's 
apathy and coldness in regard to Death. The average 
native man and woman with the dread cholera stalking 
their movements daily and hourly, and lurking within 
their tenebrous filthy hovels and houses, behaved as if 
the high revels of Death before them were mere common 
place phases and occurrences in their habitually dirty, 
degenerate every day lives. They appeared to possess 
neither voice nor desire for an epoch that might see 
their heathenish land freed of its curse of filth, the 
paramount cause of cholera. They lived and died like 
the dogs of their deserts, and evil looking buzzards of 
their burning skies. But through the blood and suffer- 
ings of veterans, were they redeemed. 

Dead comrades, victims of the cholera, were buried 
—19— 



generally under, cover of darkness, a swinging lantern 
carried by an officer guiding the steps of the small 
mournful cortege wending its way towards the hallowed 
spot selected for interment. The Thing the cortege 
guarded and conveyed was hidden from view by a 
blanket, its only shroud in which it was buried. Greater 
funeral pomp and majesty in the safe environments of 
city or town, could not convey to the mind a more 
solemn, impressive lesson than that object of our grief 
laid to rest in the gloom and silence of a sterile waste 
in a grave unmarked by monument or tablet. 
* * * * * * * * * * 

Almost within the shadows cast forth by those 
stupendous, and mysterious objects of human creation, 
the Pyramids, Gizeh in our day formed an oasis chiefly 
comprised of date and cabbage palms, covering a some- 
what extensive area verging in one direction upon the 
Mahmondieh Canal, which gathering its momentum from 
the flowing waters of the Delta, ramified through a por- 
tion of Lower Egypt, to finally blend with the waters 
of the Bitter Lakes. 

The heterogenous collection of ancient landmarks, 
stone slabs, idols, and the Pyramids afforded us little 
interest. The period of our sojourn at Gizeh filled as 
it was with sickness and woe, was not conducive to the 
study of Egyptology, nor rendered us amenable to a 
longer detention in Egypt than was absolutely neces- 
sary. The medical means intended for the alleviation 
of our physical ills were of the crudest order, a "num- 
ber 9" pill, hugh, black, and nasty covering the whole 
sphere of our quacks perspective. "You my bhoy" (he 
was an Irishman), he would exclaim to a poor, thin, 
—20— 



cadaverous looking soldier, "are loafing by G ," 

"Orderly, a 'number 9' for him." To another on the 
verge of the grave he would say, "An' you my bhoy 
are very sick. Orderly, a 'number 9' for him." But it 
needed more than a "number 9" to infuse new life and 
blood into the majority of our corps, slowly but surely 
perishing through the insidious advances made upon 
their constitutions by dysentery, diarrhoea, and enteric 
fever, though none but those in the last stages of these 
epidemics were admitted to the marquee termed hos- 
pital, wherein they soon breathed their last. It has been 
reported that in 1883-4 in the Cairo district alone, 
more than four thousand British troops died from the 
epidemics we have named. Some sacrifice of lives for 
a country that every civilized nation but Britain had 
not deemed worth its while to meddle with. Were we 
to possess the pen of a ready writer with his skill for 
picturing details as vividly as the mind of a reader might 
desire, we should still lamentably fail to impart to it a 
proper understanding of the situation of the Sussex at 
Gizeh. 

At times when meditating upon the scenes enacted 
there, the shrill, mournful pipings of a Highlander's 
band accompanying the solemn marches of many a 
funeral party is brought to memory from the past. Their 
solemn tramping behind the gun carriage bearing away 
the mortal remains of a comrade to us is an oft repeated 

reminder that our debt to him is still unpaid. 
********** 

The scene changes. The early summer of 1884 
saw the Sussex and other corps busily engaged in load- 
ing native boats, nuggers, for their advance up the Nile. 
—21— 



The life of General Charles George Gordon was in peril 
of death upon the Isle of Khartoum, situated at the 
confluence of the Blue and White Nile. 

Savage hordes of dervishes commanded by their 
Mahdi had invested the city's walls to massacre its in- 
habitants. Urgent appeals for succour had been sent 
forth by that lone, g^ey minister of peace and soldier, 
Gordon the Good. Day and night upon the walls of his 
besieged habitat he earnestly scanned the wastes of 
sand about him and the silvery Nile for evidence of 
approaching relief, in the form of men of his color, 
cheering, — and victorious. Alas for the relief that came 
too late. 

An idling crowd of Arabs, Soudanese, Nubians, 
Egyptians, Greeks and Turks watched our efforts to 
embark with particular interest, for not a few were 
Mahdists willing at any moment to cut our throats. 
There stood Ben Ali, clothed in pure white with feet 
cased in yellow slippers, and with head adorned by 
a white and red turban, watching all things with crafty 
eyes. At his elbow stood Mahmoud very still, but also 
watching with snake like eyes that anon turned green 
as he interpreted the meanings of some of the jokes 
made by our men at the expense of the nuggers' crews. 
He and Ben Ali were emissaries of the Mahdi at Khor- 
dofan to which place they were hastening immediately 
after our embarkation. Groups of officers stood here 
and there, conversing or shouting orders for greater 
speed, for the afternoon was well advanced, and the 
nuggers before sun-down must be well out upon the 
bosom of the river. All is ready; buglers sound the 
"advance" the blaring noise galvanizing into action the 
—22— 



native captain and crew of each nugger; and then with 
much groaning, shouting, and swearing sails are set 
taut, the anchors belayed, and a small steamboat at- 
taches its hawser to the prow of the first nugger of the 
fleet to aid its progress for about fifty miles. 

Soon we are gliding along through the Delta leav- 
ing astern Gizeh with its dead, the Pyramids, and all 
else familiar with our past occupation of Lower Egypt. 
With the decline of the sun the steamer drew inboard 
its hawser, leaving our fleet to meander along through 
the fast falling darkness by the favor of desert winds, 
which being cool and pleasant afforded compensation to 
our wearied, heated forms for what they had so lately 
suffered from in the nature of labor. The occasional 
cheep of a nocturnal bird, the creaking of a water wheel, 
or the long-drawn cry of a village watchman were the 
only sounds that came towards us from the land we were 
close hugging upon our starboard bow. We made pro- 
gress as it seemed to us, in the midst of a vast sepulchre ; 
the darkness lending wierd and fantastic shapes to 
things but dimly seen and creating thoughts of a spiritual 
world, strange, haunting, tortuous, and terrible. 

Things mobile and natural looking in daylight in 
that dense Egyptian darkness seemed to advance and 
recede with muffled, stealthy tread, to threaten, and to 
beckon with ghostly fingers in the direction of that lone 
isle of the Blue and White Nile, dread post of anguish 
and care to that noble heart now still in death. There 
were feelings in the breasts of those we conversed with 
that our mission would end in failure; that General 
Gordon would receive his assistance too late, though not 
upon the dangers and difficulties of our enterprise were 
—33— 



we counting for this to happen as by the certainty of the 
length of time it would take to organize a sufficient force 
of supplies and men to penetrate the hostile reservations 
of the Mahdi. The disorganized state of the army at 
Cairo and the sickness which had devastated its ranks 
leaving it totally unfit to meet the trials of war in such 
a barren^ trying region as the Soudan, made us appre- 
hensive of the results of the campaign. Beyond pos- 
sessing rifles and bayonets, we lacked everything else to 
make a defense in any probable encounter with the 
enemy. 

We pitched camp in the month of July, 1884, at a 
place called Mangobat, and six weeks afterwards with 
still no signs of reinforcements proceeded by slow stages 
as formerly in nuggers, to Assouan. 

The daily pictures of domestic and agricultural 
life that we were able to observe as we glided along up 
river promised no departure from that of a thousand 
years ago. The same form of plough, of hoe, or of rake 
with the same means of draughting by the aid of buffalos 
or small bulls were then, as in the time of the Pharoahs, 
in existence. A pointed stick with the adjustment of 
two spreading handles formed a plough ; a hoe was made 
from wood or flint. Still the results from such primitive 
modes of tillage were generally prolific, due in a great 
measure to the richness of the silt or mud deposits ac- 
cruing from the periodical rising and fall of the Nile 
waters, which are always safe to drink, always cool. 

Our negotiation of the cataracts above Assouan was 

a feat formerly thought impossible to accomplish. Vast 

ramparts of deep brown rocks with points and pinnacles 

innumerable, resisted the roaring waters, which, as we 

—24— 



were nearing the month of August, had them well sub- 
merged. From above the third cataract to Dongola we 
enjoyed smooth sailings but were commencing to suffer 
from some form of eye complaint that at times imparted 
feelings of great discomfort and misery. Also we were 
in the zone of smallpox with which some of our men 
began to be afflicted. 

As we approached Dongola, the figure of Major, 
afterwards Lord Kitchener was seen awaiting our ar- 
rival. A drawn revolver was in his right hand which 
we inferred was intended as a threat to quiet some dis- 
turbance connected with his Bashibazoucs, a wild unruly 
crowd of insurgents whom he commanded then for scout- 
ing purposes. He left Dongola soon after our arrival 
disguised as a chief of the Khababish tribe, with his 
party, going in the direction of Khorti. 

At Dongola we fortified our position with all the 
means at hand, to await the neucleus of the expeditionary 
force commanded by Lord Wolsely. The first of these 
to arrive in so called Yarrow boats constructed in Eng- 
land, were members of the Royal Horse Guards com- 
manded by Colonel Fred Burnaby, and a naval brigade 
commanded by Lord Charles Beresford. Following these 
came shortly afterwards by land mounted on camels and 
small Arab horses, four squadrons of the 19th Hussars, 
and a detachment of Mounted Infantry. With other 
units including the 4'2nd Black Watch, the 38th South 
Staffordshires, and portions of the Rifle Brigade, the 
total strength of the Nile Expeditionary Force at Don- 
gola, intended for the capture of Khartoum to effect the 
salvation of General Gordon, comprised not more than 
fifteen hundred men, armed chiefly with only small 
—25— 



weapons, excepting the Naval Brigade in the possession 
of four nine pounder guns. 

At Khorti this force was to be divided into two 
columns to follow two different routes to effect if pos- 
sible a conjunction at Shendy below Khartoum. One 
column under the command of General Earle was to 
follow the route of the river, and the second with General 
Sir Herbert Stewart as its commander was to cross the 
Bayuda Desert. Of this column our corps comprised 
a part. 

Quite a month was spent at Khorti before we com- 
pleted our preparations for a final advance upon the 
enemy. Six months having elapsed since the Sussex 
first prepared themselves for their journey at Cairo — 
six months of constant delays, queryings, debates, and 
hard work, and Christmas Eve in the year 1884 had 
arrived. 

On this momentous occasion, a rude platform or 
stage had been improvised from empty biscuit boxes for 
the display of the combined talents, vaudeville and vocal 
of our men. The artists with the small means at their 
disposal, outdid themselves in the matter of songs, dances 
and recitations. 

A young lieutenant after a final slap upon the 
strings of an ancient banjo, drew the back of his hand 
across his mouth as an expressive sign of his thirstiness. 
Enough. Our teetotal commander-in-chief. Lord Wolse- 
ly with unexpected generosity ordered the broaching of 
a small cask of rum. Shocking depravity. Then with 
canteens held aloft at a certain angle to enable us to see 
the liquor we drank to the health of Victoria the Good. 
Three cheers were given for his lordship, three hearty 
—26— 



cheers as an encouragement for the second ordering of 
a cask of rum, but alas, without effect. Thus was the 
last Christmas Eve for many spent in that oasis at 
Khorti, a thousand miles from Cairo. At 10 P. M. the 
camp sank into a silence broken only by the low pitched 
challenges of the sentries, the groans of camels, and the 
splashings of sportive crocodiles in the river hard by. 
We slept, and dreamed of home and Christmas pudding 
until awakened by a bugle sounding the reveille. 

By January 1st the whole of the force was ready 
for their separate journeys, and were formed up en- 
masse to receive the final instruction of the commander- 
in-chief. Afterwards General Earle with his column 
saluted and took up the line of march for Kirbekan, 
there to meet with disaster. The Bayuda column headed 
by Lord Wolsely and a distinguished staff set forth upon 
its hazardous journey in the midst of dense clouds of 
dust, and accompanied by a terrible medley of noises 
occasioned by roaring, furious camels, kicking horses, 
and clanking accoutrements. Things, however, soon as- 
sumed a more orderly aspect, our accoutrements we 
muffled, and the column settled down to a regular pace. 

For twenty miles it forged ahead over fairly level 
and hard ground before being halted by Lord Wolsely, 
who was to bid it adieu. In a neat speech "my Lord" 
informed us of the onerous duties awaiting him at Cairo, 
and on their account regretted his inability to accompany 
us further. On his retirement we resumed our march 
until nightfall, when we bivouached to wait for the rising 
of the moon. 

In such a manner for four days we progressed un- 
opposed towards Gakdul, the place of wells. The jour- 
—27— 



ney so far had been fraught with much suffering to man 
and beast; of the latter only the horses being allowed to 
drink, (two gallons of water every twenty-four was 
their only allowance) a drove of small bullocks intended 
for our consumption staggering along with lolling, pro- 
jected tongues black with thirst, imploring with dumb, 
beseeching looks for the water denied them. With the 
sun's heat one hundred and twelve degrees in the shade 
our men on their allowance of two pints of water every 
twenty-four hours, suffered extremely. Our inflamed 
and heated tonsils and swollen mouths suffered more 
because of our desert inexperience, and by the repeated 
shocks dealt our systems by sickness at Cairo. But 
relief came at last; the range of hills marking the place 
of Gakdul with its hidden wells loomed into sight. The 
flash of a heliograph apprised the column of the success 
of Major Kitchener in finding the wells unpoisoned and 
void of an enemy's presence. Heartily we blessed that 
veteran as his message flashed forth in our direction, 
reading, "all's well." 

The battle of Abu Klea was fought by British 
soldiers in hollow square upon the 16th day of January, 
1885, about eight miles from Abu Kru where we first 
met and were completely surrounded by savage, merciless 
dervishes. Behold, then, that minute square of men as 
it thus stood at 1 P. M. on that memorable and honour- 
able day of January, 1885, a small, ragged host who 
were bound to win or be massacred to a man and 
mutilated in the same manner as was the army of Egyp- 
tians commanded by Hicks Pasha in 1883 approaching 
Suakin. The rifles of the weakest of our youngsters 
—28— 



are gripped with a giant's strength. Blue jackets sup- 
port their poor artillery with bared arms, drawn cut- 
lasses and revolvers, with their commander smiling en- 
couragement, and occupying an advantageous position 
to direct and control them. Sir Herbert Stewart is 
seated on horseback in the centre of the square over- 
looking the lair of the enemy, a grassy hollow about five 
hundred yards away. The foe in the hills at our rear 
become silent. Their power is to be represented by a 
yelling, savage mob, the priests of their Mahdi. So they 
watch interested in spite of their venom, for the issue 
of the clashing together of two human forces — one, 
British, disciplined and civilized; the other, barbaric 
and murderous. 

Following a revelation of flags and banners from 
the mentioned hollow, came a long drawn yell from two 
thousand bronze throats, and then out of this sprang the 
enemy ! "Fire ! and the left front of our square poured 
into that mass of savages a volley with such deadly 
accuracy that a lane was opened up through their midst, 
covering the desert with writhing, twisting forms. Noth- 
ing daunted, the remainder charged onwards, led by 
their yelling, mounted chiefs, and throwing themselves 
upon the square with deadly impetuosity, broke the 
ranks of the guards. How these fought to reform. Like 
demons, with clubbed rifles, fists, and bayonets they 
remedied their misfortune and closed up, though leaving 
bereft and unsupported beyond their ranks gallant Col- 
onel Fred Burnaby. Completely surrounded by der- 
vishes he fought valourously with a tooth pick of a 
sword as his only weapon until his jugular vein was 
pierced by a spear and he fell smothered by his enemies. 
—29— 



Yelling, struggling, and thrusting with spear and 
sword the dervishes surrounded the square with deadly 
intent, but all to no purpose, though our living stood 
upon the dead in all ranks, with the breech blocks of 
their rifles jammed and useless, and bayonets bent. The 
Naval Brigade — gallant men — performed wonders until 
the explosion of the last shell, dying in dozens cursing, 
and smashing with bare fists the faces of their evil foe. 
Some of the camels in the square broke their bonds and 
becoming rampant, shed their loads and furniture, which 
by some means becoming ignited, caught in their fire 
some of our dead, and the stench of their burning per- 
meated the atmosphere already intolerable from rifle 
smoke, sweat, and steaming blood. At last the dervishes 
were pressed back, repulsed, and sent flying headlong 
into the path of the now charging two squadrons of 
Hussars, who before had watched the battle inactive 
from the apex of a low hill two hundred yards from 
the square. By the deadly play of their sabres and car- 
bines they consummated our victory, leaving us to bury 
our dead, and succour the wounded. The retreat of the 
dervishes in the plain caused their brethren in the hills 
to fall back on Metemmeh, which place contains the 
secret of General Gordon's betrayal. Our retreat from 
there in the month of March, 1885, proclaimed the failure 
of our mission. The veteran of Khartoum waited and 
watched for us in vain, but through his great sacrifice, 
and ours, Egypt today is clean, orderly, and well 
governed. 

For service in the Soudan, in addition to the medal 
our corps had been awarded for the Egyptian affair of 
—30— 



1882, it was awarded a clasp for the ascension of the 
Nile and another for the battle of Abu-Klea. 

As bounty it was rewarded, as were the residue of 
the rank and file of the Nile Expeditionary Force, £,5 in 
gold or about $24.25. 

As Wm. G. McAdoo, Secretary of the Treasury, 
said: "Shall we be more tender with our dollars than 
with the lives of our sons?" 




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



020 662 052 3 



